


Please Disgrace this Royal Face

by gxnseys



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Knight!Percy, M/M, Medieval AU, PJO AU, Slow Burn, princess!annabeth, ya girl pullin out all the stops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-03 19:24:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14575935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gxnseys/pseuds/gxnseys
Summary: Princess Annabeth has no intention of being Queen, and marrying a big mouthed commoner asshole is her perfect way to get disgraced out of the family and be free to live her own life. But she underestimated THIS big mouthed commoner asshole, and thus the scheme does not go according to plan...





	1. Prologue

Prince Jason of Rome did not make Annabeth want to be a queen anymore than the last suitor had. He was handsome, rich, and second in line for his own kingdom, meaning he was powerful but not too powerful. With his sister already sitting on their throne he could marry Annabeth and not pose a threat to her crown or her people, but still be a noble and upstanding husband. 

In other words: the perfect match.

If Annabeth had any desire to be a Queen, that was.

“How are you enjoying the festivities, your Grace?” Prince Jason asked around his goblet, a polite tilt creeping on the edge of his blue eyes.

Annabeth sighed and looked around, considering her answer carefully. The banquet hall was done up beautifully, the blue and silver banners of her house draped from the walls and laying across the floors, bowls filled with fruit and platters piled high with meats and bread lining the tables. All around guests laughed and ate and drank, people from across the land gathered yet again to meet another suitor that Annabeth was to consider. Candles were lit like starlight, and even the servants were enjoying the jester who danced and somersaulted around the floor with flaming batons and colourful balls.

“I am rather bore-oomf!” Annabeth jumped as the leg of her chair jolted forward.

She glanced behind her at her handmaiden, Piper, who looked murderous, standing stock straight behind Annabeth’s seat.

“I beg your pardon?” the Prince asked, furrowing his brow.

“I said, the festivities are wonderful” she lied, smiling. The smile she put on for company was perfected now, completely relaxed and easy.

Although everyone was happy and the hall was lovely, Annabeth felt miserable, as she had for some time. It had recently dawned on her that this would be her life, and that there was almost nothing she could do to prevent it. She saw her future before her, full of scheming courts and heavy crowns, and felt the weight of it depress her. She hadn’t truly enjoyed anything in awhile.

“I must agree” the Prince beside her said.

“ _Prince Jason_ -“

Annabeth followed the sound of her Mother’s voice to her left, where she sat a few seats down, leaning forward to get a better look at her daughter’s would-be-husband.

“-tell us of your people, I _must_ hear. I have never had the pleasure of visiting your land.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. His lands were across the water and high in mountains. She knew this because she had seen the maps and books open on her mother’s desk describing them, packed with information on the small kingdom’s customs and wealth.

“Well... we are located high in the mountains” Prince Jason began.

Annabeth abruptly stood, her plate rattling on the table.

“Annabeth?” Her mother asked, raising her eyebrows. “Whatever is the matter?”

“I have grown weary from the celebration, Mother” she waved her hand around the room, where people still feasted and drank merrily. “I’m afraid I must retire.”

The Queen’s eyes shone brightly, flashing in warning at Annabeth. This was not the first time she had prematurely walked out in the middle of an engagement, and she knew that if she followed through there would be hell to pay.

“But Prince Jason was about to regale us with his wonderful account of-“

“I’m sure someone can recount it for me tomorrow, when I am properly rested” she interrupted, brushing invisible crumbs off of her blue skirt.

She turned and curtseyed to Prince Jason, who stood half way from his seat to return an awkward bow, before she pivoted to her mother and dropped low, looking up through her eyelashes.

She did not bother to say goodnight as she left the hall, her handmaiden in tow, the laughter and jesting fading out as she stomped through the corridors.

“Your lady-“ Piper said, hurrying after Annabeth with her skirts in her hands. “Your lady please-“

“Do not _Your Lady_ me, Piper,” Annabeth said, turning swiftly to face her friend. “You saw exactly what was happening in there all over again. I can’t stand it any longer.”

She continued down the corridor, passing stationed guards and ignoring Piper’s pleas to slow until she reached her chambers, yanking the wide wooden doors open with a large pull.

“Annabeth _please_ ” Piper begged, closing the doors behind her back. “Listen to what I have to say.”

Annabeth shook her head and pulled out the rucksack from beneath her bed. She’d prepacked it a long time ago with clothes and necessities, constantly ready to make a run for the countryside.

“Not the sack-“ Piper groaned, but she cut her off.

“Yes. Tonights the night. I’m leaving. I can’t take this a moment longer. You saw what my mother was doing, how she invited the whole bloody kingdom to this feast- she wants those mountain lands, she knows that Prince Jason is wealthy-“

“Or maybe she just wants you to be happy?”

Annabeth stopped. She looked over to where Piper stood by the doors, her cheeks red and the front of her green dress ruffled and unkempt from chasing after her. When Annabeth was 12 she had been assigned Piper, a girl her own age, someone who could keep her company in the large, empty castle when there were no other children around. Originally Piper had been introduced to help Annabeth mature into a proper young woman who was might be interested in gowns and courtships, but quickly the two girls had bonded over their shared love of swordsmanship and adventure. Piper was Annabeth’s best friend, and she knew she was being unfair.

“I cannot stand it any longer” Annabeth finally said, her voice quiet. She sat slowly down on her bed, her hands folded in her lap. Piper came to her side, patting her gently on the back.

“Prince Jason seemed very lovely” Piper offered. “Much nicer than the other suitors.”

“It’s not about Prince Jason” Annabeth said. “It’s about being Queen. I can’t be Queen. I don’t _want_ to be Queen.”

“There are far worse things to be” Piper said.

She supposed her friend was right. There were worse fates than being Queen of a kingdom you did not want to rule - there were women out there raising children and working the lands every day just to make a living and here Annabeth was, complaining about being Royalty.

“I will let the people down” she murmured. 

“Oh, come now Annabeth” Piper said, reaching across and hugging her friend around the shoulders. “Let’s put the runaway rucksack back beneath the bed and have the servants bring up some tea and cookies, shall we?”

“I’m not very hungry” Annabeth mumbled, laying her head down on the large goosefeather pillows that made up her bed. The heavy, sinking feeling was beginning to weigh down on her shoulders again, pushing her into a cold, numb place that she feared she would never return from. Her crowning loomed ahead of her, complete with the husband that would make it official, and Annabeth had never been more unhappy.

“If you get any thinner, you’ll disgrace my title, Princess” Piper joked, standing to begin her walk down to the kitchens. “They’ll think I’m not feeding you.” 

“Disgrace you...” Annabeth whispered, her eyes snapping open. “Disgrace- _Piper_. You’re a genius!”

“What? I am?”

Annabeth jumped from her bed and ran to her friend, picking her up by the middle and swinging her around in a circle. “You are so smart! How did I not think of it before?”

“Think of what??” Piper asked as she was dropped back down, watching as Annabeth began to pace excitedly, waves of energy rolling off of her.

“Disgrace! Don’t you see, Piper? They can’t make me Queen if I disgrace my family, they couldn’t make me the head of the kingdom if they were ashamed!”

“Why would they be ashamed of you, Annabeth, you are the perfect model for a Queen-“

“I could marry a commoner!” Annabeth cried, her finger in the air. “I could marry a peasant boy and disgrace my family. They could appoint one of my half brothers to the throne, or my cousin Magnus-“

“This is ludicrous”

“It just might work”

Annabeth’s mind was moving at a million miles an hour, racing far beyond anything she had ever considered. Her mother would be so embarrassed and shocked at her for marrying a commoner, for potentially putting a peasant on the throne as King, that she could very well disown her. Then Annabeth could be free, stripped of her titles and emancipated from the court once and for all, able to do as she pleased with any possibility ahead of her. No running away required, no ties left behind, no laws to make her come back. If she married a commoner she would not be Queen.

“Thank you so much for your help Piper” Annabeth grinned, sitting at her desk and rolling out a long strip of parchment.

Piper, who looked sick to the stomach, merely said; “don’t thank me just yet.”

 

 

After Piper had left and returned with food Annabeth had drafted her first official statement, written neatly in royal blue ink.

All the young men of the land were to journey to the castle, where they would be trialled and tested, and the man who passed these tests would be the new King. 


	2. Dirt Bucket

The courtyard of the castle was filled with young men. Some were lord’s sons, dressed in clean tunics and their nails freshly scrubbed. Others were butchers, or farmers, or labourers, rough around the edges but presentable, rugged up against the late autumn chill that swept in on the wind and sang against the stone walls. Only a few were truly common folk, their shirts torn, pockets empty. 

But Percy? Percy was nothing.

“Come along now, boy” Octavian said as he dismounted his horse. “Take my steed away before the Princess arrives. I shan’t have her seeing you.”

Percy grit his teeth. “Everyone is allowed to compete today. Including me.”

Octavian turned, one pale eyebrow raised. He wore a purple and orange hat with a lime green plume feather, and Percy had never wanted to smother someone with something more.

“Oh?” He said. “You want to compete? By all means, compete, but you won’t have a job to come back to when you lose.”

“But that’s not-“

“Take the horse away, stableboy”

Octavian turned, effectively dismissing Percy and ending their conversation. It was no use, Percy wouldn’t get through to him.

He took the reigns of the white stallion and began walking it out of the courtyard to the stables, the noise of the crowd fading behind him. Octavian was surely going to stand out to the Princess Annabeth, especially after he’d taken a week to choose that outfit. He’d sent Percy all around the village to look for a new costume for the event, and had asked him for the brightest, most expensive garments he could find. When he had returned with the mustard yellow leotard Octavian had practically squealed in delight. 

“ _Prick_ ” Percy muttered, the horse neighing in reply.

The notice that had been tacked up in the village square had been somewhat of a small beacon of hope for Percy when he had spotted it in the marketplace two weeks ago. It read that any and all could come to the palace to win a title, and with the state Percy was in at the moment, a title would solve every single one of his problems. A title would free him and his mother from Octavian’s household, where they were bound to work for next to nothing to pay back his step-father’s debt. It could maybe even get him some lands, where he would be content and happy and grow crops and animals. It was a simple dream, but even it was far fetched. Octavian had just stripped him of any hopes of winning that title.

Suddenly, next to him, the stallion came to a halt. Percy tugged on the reigns, urging the horse forward.

“Come on, girl” he clicked, reaching into his pocket for some dried oats. “Come on, off to the stables. Wouldn’t want the princess to see either of us.”

The words were sour on Percy’s tongue, and another wave of resentment rolled through his stomach. “Wouldn’t want to ruin Octavian’s _big day_.”

Despite the words of encouragement the horse did not budge, but instead tossed its head and whinnied into the air, clouds of steam blowing from it’s nostrils.

“Come.... _on_ ” Percy begged, digging his heels into the flagstones of the ground and pulling. “Don’t do this to me now.”

The horse scraped a hoof across the stone, throwing its hair back.

“What’re you- _woahhhh_!!”

Percy cried out as the horse reared up, the reigns snapping out of his hands and sending him flying backwards. His back stung as he hit the ground hard, landing in a shallow mud puddle and the oats he had been holding spilling across his chest.

“Fuck!” He yelled. He looked around at his soaked trousers and sleeves, the mud crusted on his shirtfront sticking the oats to his body. His hair dripped across his face in dirty droplets. “Shit. Shit fuck! Why? _Fuck_!”

“ _Ehem_ ”

Percy whipped his head around, looking up at a disgruntled handmaiden. Her hands were piled high with skirt ends, and beside her, the owner of the skirts looked pensive and considerate.

“Your majesty” Percy said from the mud. He bowed his head, but it felt a little late.

“Hello” the Princess Annabeth said, inclining her head and sending a wave of bouncing blonde curls forward. She held two clean forefingers up to her mouth, watching Percy with her eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you doing on the ground stableboy?” The Princess’s handmaiden asked. She had a beautiful face, but it was screwed up in distaste.

“Um” Percy said smartly. “You’re the Princess.”

“Get up” the maid ordered, gathering the skirts higher into her arms. “And get out of my lady’s sight.”

Percy made a move to stand, digging his hands into the mud.

“No. Wait, _Piper_ ” Princess Annabeth said. “He’s perfect.”

“What?” Piper exclaimed. “Annabeth- no, you are joking. Look at him, I don’t think he’s ever bathed, and he’s obviously just a _stableboy_ -“

“Exactly. I needed to find the lowest, lamest, dirty little peasant man in the kingdom” Annabeth explained calmly. “This ones perfect.” 

“I’m _right_ here” Percy said from the ground.

The Princess and her maid stared at each other for a long, charged moment before turning to Percy in unison.

“You,” Annabeth said. “Get up. This is your lucky day.”

She extended a perfectly smooth hand out to Percy, leaning down and dirtying the front of her red dress in the muck he sat in. Percy stared up at the Princess long enough to make the pause awkward. He was so close to her he could see the weak light sparkling off her rings and diadem, and the bright, stormy colour of her eyes.

“You’re the Princess” he said again.

She rolled her eyes and reached forward, grabbing Percy by his soiled shirt and yanking him up. Percy wobbled on his feet for a second, and found that Piper the handmaiden was far less threatening when he stood above her, but the Princess up close looked deadly.

“What’s going on?” Percy asked.

“You will wait to speak until you are spoken to, boy” Piper snapped.

“Follow me”

The Princess grabbed Percy’s hand in hers, her tiny fist wrapped around his tightly, before she yanked him forward and began a brisk walk back towards the courtyard with him in tow.

“Annabeth really think about this!” Piper called after her, hurrying close behind.

“I have” the Princess said. “I’m doing it.”

“Doing _what_?!” Percy demanded. Her grip on his fingers was painful, and he got the distinct feeling of trying to tug the horse along once more.

“Shutup” She said.

The Princess led Percy around the horse stables and up a set of wooden stairs that lined the outer wall of the castle, Octavian’s steed forgotten. Guards in shining armour leaned away from her as she stomped up the staircase, pushing up their eyepieces to stare at her hand in Percy’s. She pulled him along a platform that connected to the castle as the level turned to stone, shoes clacking against its surface.

“Please, Your Highness” Percy asked. Was he being taken to be executed? Was it for swearing in front of royalty? _Shit_.

“If I have to tell you to shutup again you’re losing your tongue, boy” she warned, turning to glare at him as she led him towards a balcony overlooking the courtyard. “Now be quiet and look ugly.”

With that lovely request she stopped abruptly and thrust Percy forward towards the lip of the balcony. He looked down at the space full of men, Octavian’s bright getup shining amongst the modestly dressed fellows somewhere towards the back.

To his sides, trumpets went off, and when all the eyes of the ground turned to Percy, a startled shriek came from the rear of the gathering. There was silence and then murmuring, and then Princess Annabeth was at Percy’s side.

“Hello. It is with great pleasure that I announce the trial is over. I have found the winner” she announced, a shocked ripple of noise moving through the attendees as she gestured to her side. “This is our champion...”

“Percy” Percy supplied.

“ _Percy!_ Everyone say hello to Percy”

The crowd mumbled an unenthused greeting. Percy couldn’t believe what was happening. He’d won? How? Was he to be given a title?

“Good. Now that you’re all acquainted, it is with great pleasure that I announce my engagement to your champion, Percy, and introduce you to him again as your future King.”

As outraged cries were hurled up from the horde Percy’s heart sunk into his kneecaps.

“What?!” He choked.

“Congratulations” she said by his side over the roaring crowd. “You’re the next King of the land.”

“I thought if- if I won I’d be given a _title_ -“

“That is a title” the Princess said.

“I didn’t even compete-“

“Yes you did”

“But how can I be King unless I marry you-“

“This is me proposing to you” she explained.

Percy looked at her priceless jewellery and silk dress trimmed with fur, her left earring costing more than a year of his wages, before glancing down at himself, Lord of the Muddy Oats.

“I don’t get it” he admitted.

“Oh, good,” she said. “You’re stupid too. That’s a plus.”

“No, _really_ ” Percy said.

He cast his eyes down at the courtyard, where men exchanged heated arguments about how far they came for nothing, a few shouting insults at Percy from the ground. Some had already begun to pack up and head back home, and briefly, Percy wondered if Octavian would get home when his horse was now surely missing.

“Why me?” Percy asked. The Princess Annabeth was beautiful, famed for sharp mind and dazzling good looks. This close he could see why.

She narrowed her eyes at him, scanning him over a few times before grinning widely. She had pearly, straight teeth, and looked like a child when she smiled.

“Because you’re perfect” she said. It was meant to be a compliment ( _he guessed?_ ), but Percy felt as though he’d just been slapped. _Him_ , engaged to a _princess_? For no reason whatsoever? He must be delusional. Maybe he hit his head when he fell earlier. 5 minutes ago he’d been a stableboy and now - a future king.

“Come” Princess Annabeth said, taking his hand once more. It was incredibly soft in his, a fine layer of dried mud now dusted on both of their skin.

She turned away from the balcony and slowly lead Percy inside to a grand hallway. The floors were solid marble, and the high, arched ceilings were lined with chandeliers of crystal and sapphire. Portraits hung from the walls and sconces of blue stained glass were dotted along next to every painting. As Annabeth lead him through the castle’s interior, guards flanking their side, Percy felt as though he’d seen this place in a dream.

“You’re to meet my mother now, fiancé” the Princess said. “And I want you to say everything that’s on your mind. No statement is too idiotic.”

“I’m starting to get the impression that you think I‘m stupid” Percy said, stopping in his tracks and yanking his grip out of hers.

“What are you doing, boy? You’re about to meet the Queen” the Princess demanded. She gestured with her hand for Percy to continue along, but he stood straight and squared his shoulders, mustering as much dignity as a man covered in mud and horsefeed could.

“ _What. Is. Going. On_?” He urged.

Annabeth stared for a moment before heaving a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Alright- fine. Fine. I’ll make you a promise, Percival.”

“That’s not what Percy is short for”

“Then what _is_ it short for?”

“Perseus”

“What kind of name is that?”

“My one”

“Ugh. Alright. You’re about to meet my mother. Just act dumb and play along with what I say and I swear to you, I will explain all afterwards so that even you and your tiny little brain will understand it.”

“See, there you go with the stupid thing again”

“Just shutup”

They continued down the corridor again, taking a few turns and staircases, before arriving at a set of double doors. The Princess took a moment, staring at the large silver knocker, her jaw set, her eyes steely.

 “You can do this, Annabeth” she whispered. “This is what you want.” 

“I hate to interrupt” Percy said. “But I am in no state to meet the Queen. Or you, for that matter. And you can’t marry me. I’m a commoner. I don’t have any lands, or money, or- I guess I don’t have a job now either.”

Annabeth slowly turned her gaze to him. Percy irked one corner of his mouth down and shrugged, clapping his hands onto his sides. The Princess rolled her eyes but said nothing, finally reaching forward and pushing open the doors.

Trumpets sounded on either side of them as Annabeth proceeded into a large, crowded, receiving room. Noble men and women milled about, drinking and eating, dressed in rich silks and velvets, ribbons and jewels decorating every article of clothing. Conversation faded as Annabeth marched towards the dais at the back of the room, followed promptly by Percy, who left dirty footprints on the floor.

Percy had never been more confused in his life. People recoiled from him, pulling their champagne flutes and little sandwiches away as if he would jump forward and steal them. The idea didn’t seem half bad, and Percy’s stomach grumbled loudly enough to echo across the now silent chamber.

They stopped in front of the Queen in her throne, and Princess Annabeth curtseyed far enough for her dress to spread out around her like a blooming flower. Percy just stood there.

The Queen. He was meeting _the Queen_.

“Annabeth” the Queen said. She stood from her chair, caught off guard and scanning the room as she addressed her daughter, probably hoping her guests were not outraged by the dirt bucket that she had brought in.

Percy had never had any connection to royalty before, but being a subject in their lands he knew the basic attributes and trivia. Princess Annabeth was beautiful and golden, an intriguingly intelligent girl the people were eager to see become Queen, young but capable. The Queen was hard but fair, the only one to rival her own daughters wisdom. She was also, Percy noted, incredibly terrifying. 

“Hello, Mother” the Princess by Percy’s side said. “I have an announcement to make.”

The Queen’s eyes narrowed, shifting to Percy. “What is it, daughter?”

“I am engaged”

The court burst into gasps of exclamation and Percy wanted to curl up and die.

“Oh” the Queen said, bored, sitting back down on her throne. “And where is Prince Jason? I’m pleased to hear you made a decision.”

“Not to Prince Jason” Annabeth said. She looked over at Percy, and her face split open into another electrifying grin.

“Then to whom” the Queen asked, eyes alight. “ _To_ _whom_ , Annabeth?”

Annabeth looked back at her mother, defiant, hands balled at her sides, covered in the dirt Percy had put upon her.

“Meet Perseus” she announced, grabbing Percy by his shoulders and hugging her body close to him. She smelt like flowery perfume, and Percy felt as though his brain was melting with confusion. This surely wasn’t happening. “My fiancé.”

The crowd around them exploded, the Queen rising from her seat and rushing to Annabeth as the nobility began surging forward to get a better look at Percy, their tea and cakes forgotten somewhere by the tables.

“He’s so dirty!”

“And _ugly_ -“

“So unkept”

“The future king! A commoner!”

“How can this be!?”

People began pulling on his clothes, his hair- as if being a peasant meant his body was free to prod and probe. Percy whipped around in search of Annabeth, but she was gone, along with the Queen, leaving him alone and surrounded with nothing to protect himself.

“Don’t touch me” Percy warned as someone grabbed him by his elbow. 

“I said don’t _touch me_ -“ he shoved away, pushing a man from himself and creating a domino effect amongst the crowd, an entire row of lords and ladies going down in a cacophony of shrieks and yells.

“Time to go” a voice said in his ear, a hard but small hand clamping down on his shoulder and pulling him backwards, out of the court room and through the crowd, and into the waiting world beyond it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! feel free to leave a snazzy lil comment if u wish (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞


	3. Dashing < Dirty

Annabeth was, and would continue to be, extremely proud of herself.

“You’re doing this to spite me. To mock me” the Queen said for the thousandth time.

“No,” Annabeth replied once more. “We’re in love. _I_ _love_ _him_.”

Annabeth and her mother had been arguing for what was going on three hours. She’d pulled her away from the audience, and from Percy, and immediately began screaming, and hadn’t stopped. At first she had asked if Annabeth was trying to embarrass her in front of a crowd, and then if she was being forced against her will. No logical explanation could make clear to Annabeth’s mother why she would want to marry a dirty, poor, commoner, even if Annabeth insisted she was in love with him.

“How did you even meet this peasant, Annabeth? How?”

Annabeth smiled. She was going to play the perfect part of the Princess in love. The stupid, silly girl she would present herself as would drive her mother insane.

“Down by the lake...” she sighed, as if she was remembering a beautiful moment in her mind. “I was leaning too close to the water and he dove in after me. He saved me. I would visit him in secret at night... oh, he is such a gentleman!”

“Annabeth!” Her mother cried, gripping her daughters shoulders. “Do you have _any_ idea what you are _saying?_ Have you lost your senses?”

“I know that I love him. So dearly” Annabeth said, holding the Queen’s gaze.

It was hard not to laugh. The stableboy she’d plucked up to be the puppet of her grand bid at freedom had been sitting in a literal mud puddle, as if he was sent from God. He was covered in dirt, his clothes torn and fraying, holes in his shoes. He had no weapons, no money, nothing of value on his person. He was the perfect archetype of a commoner. He was so perfect that Annabeth wondered how her mother hadn’t disowned her on the spot.

“And while we have Prince Jason here... Annabeth. What game are you playing? Are you trying to cause a civil war?”

“No, Mother” Annabeth insisted. “I’m trying to be with the man I love.”

Her mother turned to her, her face set. She pointed a finger at her daughter. “ _Don’t_.”

“Father would have liked him” Annabeth whispered.

This would be it. This would be the phrase to break her mother, to start the process of exile and disownment. Annabeth and her mother both knew that when he was alive, her father was the only thing that kept them together. He was the diplomat scholar who also had a taste for adventure, the king who knew how to run a kingdom but also how to love his family. When he’d died Annabeth and her mother’s thinly veiled relationship had too. To bring him up at a time like this... it was unforgivable.

“You have _disgraced_ me in front of company, in front of the Prince of Rome and his peoples. You have shamed our household and dishonoured this family by bringing a peasant boy into our home and inviting him to stay!” The Queen stopped and looked her daughter up and down. “Your father would have been _disappointed_. As I am beyond belief. You have no clue what you are doing. But I suppose marrying a commoner will not be strange, because you are well on your way to becoming one.”

With that her mother stormed out, her guards flanking her sides, shutting the large doors behind her with a deafening slam.

Annabeth stood there alone in the giant chamber, letting the sound of her mother’s steps fade into the dust. Would her father have been disappointed? Would he have been sad to see Annabeth give up her crown? She didn’t think so. Annabeth thought that her father had loved her enough to want her to be happy. However that may have to come around. 

To her right, Annabeth watched the sun go down over the mountains, far out west. It cast a warm orange light across the marble floors of the room, and the illumination hit Annabeth’s skin in a way that made her glow. She examined her hands, covered in rings made of silver and gold, and felt guilt and shame wash over her. Who was she to give up her privilege so willingly, when children were homeless in the villages and families starved, all while she debated her freedom. Where was her people’s freedom, from suffering and hunger and poverty? Was it up to her to fix these things, if she truely wasn’t right for the job?

To her left a small door opened, almost hidden under a large wall-covering tapestry of Annabeth’s father riding a stallion. It had taken them twelve years to make it, yet the king never got to see it completed. A small servant girl popped her head out of the doorway, a basket full of candles tucked under her arm.

“Oh! Princess!” She did a small curtsey, spreading her pink dress out.

The room was so large and so cavernous that the girl’s footsteps echoed throughout it as she hurried around like a busy bee, places fresh candles in their holders and lighting them, as the last of the sun disappeared behind the far off slopes and peaks.

“Don’t mind me,” she smiled, bustling past Annabeth. 

The girl stopped suddenly over by a sconce, smoothing back a cinnamon coloured curl that had escaped from her bun. 

“If you don’t mind me saying, your highness” she said sagely over her shoulder. “I thought what you did today was very brave. To love someone no matter what their standing is a noble thing to do. A righteous thing indeed. Especially for a princess.” 

“Thank you” Annabeth said, a wave of guilt flooding over her again. “I’m sorry, I do not know your name?”

“Hazel, your highness. I’m new. Started yesterday. I- I light the candles at dusk you see.” 

“Yes” Annabeth said, her mind somewhere else entirely. “Yes. You’re doing a good job Hazel. Thank you for your kind words. I love him very much.”

* * *

 

Annabeth thought of the servant girl Hazel the entire, solitary walk back to her chamber. She supposed a princess saying she was in love with a peasant boy would seem like a gesture of equality on her behalf, when in truth, secretly, it was the opposite. She had chosen the ugly, muddy stableboy Percy for his obvious low status among society, the entire decision based on the shame of the common folk among the royalty.

As she reached her doors she pushed the thought aside. Now was no time for pondering, and she was too far in to her plan to turn back. Her mother was a week away from disowning her, and with a little extra luck Annabeth could make it days.

She nodded to the guards that saw to her rooms before shouldering open the door, the proceedings of her day weighing upon her heavily. At least she had done one thing completely right: finding the most hideous, foul-smelling, dirtiest, disfigured boy in the kingdom and proclaiming him future king. At least that had all been one hundred percent right.

As Annabeth undressed and washed and tucked herself into bed, she tried to savour the soft blankets and furs for what could be one of the last times, and drifted slowly off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

* * *

 

The next morning, Piper led Annabeth down to the rooms she’d put Percy in, near the servants quarters. She told Annabeth of how she’d pulled him from the mob of nobility that had swarmed him, and informed her that she’d made sure he’d been washed and dressed for breakfast this morning.

Annabeth came to a halt outside the doors to his room, turning to her handmaiden and blinking. “You washed and dressed him?”

“Yes” Piper said, smiling proudly. “I made sure he was scrubbed clean and fitted in fresh clothes.”

“Piper- I said I needed to keep him dirty!” Annabeth scolded. “He can’t look presentable. My mother needs to hate him. She needs to be disgusted by him.”

Piper scoffed. “Don’t worry. I’m sure under that mud he‘s still a pimply, ugly little man. Putting some nice clothes on him and washing that mop of hair wouldn’t change that.”

“You’re right.” Annabeth said. “You’re very right. He was exceptionally ugly.”

With a shared nod they both opened the doors to his chambers, Annabeth bracing herself for the smell of wet horse that had clung to the boy yesterday.

Inside, though, Annabeth found Frank, the castle’s tailor. He bowed his head respectfully, a roll of dark blue material in his hands.

“Your highness” he said.

Annabeth inclined her head to him, holding her hands in her lap.

“I’ve heard you’ve made some clothes for my little fiancé” Annabeth said, grinning at the words. “Where is he? You’ll have to make him come out.”

“It was my honour, Princess” Frank said. “I had to do it all in short notice, but I feel as though the work is satisfactory.”

He looked over towards a long wooden screen, where the common boy Percy surely stood behind.

“Well, come on out then” Annabeth called, Piper smirking by her side, hands on her hips. “Let’s see you in your new outfit, Percy darling.”

Percy stepped out with his arms folded across his chest. His now clean face was turned up in a deep frown, and he refused to meet the gaze of anyone in the room. He’d been dressed in a dark turquoise tunic wth gold trimmings, Annabeth’s personal owl crest sewn onto the breast just above his heart. His black trousers matched his undershirt and he was wearing new polished boots. Annabeth noted he had even been given a silver ring to wear on his thumb.

“Who is that?” Piper said beside her. “Where is the commoner boy?”

Frank cleared his throat. “That _is_ the commoner boy.”

Piper gasped, and Annabeth found she sympathised with her shock. It was like looking at a new person. What had been knotted, matted tufts on top of his head was now curling black hair, falling softly across the top of his forehead. The boy had no pimples in sight, nor unsightly abnormalities like Annabeth had hoped, preferably of the wart or bulging growth variety. He was simply smooth and tanned, with an elegant straight nose and thick, expressive eyebrows, his shoulders broad from working in labour the duration of his life. His demeanour was still rugged, but he was undeniably handsome.

“Oh” Annabeth said, putting her hands to her mouth.

“I know” Frank said, his face splitting into a grin. “I worked a miracle.”

“More like a nightmare!” Annabeth burst out, turning to her tailor. “What have you done? He’s ruined!” 

Frank’s face melted as he dropped the roll of material he’d been holding. “What? I- I cleaned him- I made him clothes from scratch to fit him- his hair-“

“He’s ruined” Annabeth insisted. “His dirt was the best part- oh, oh nooooo.”

As Piper ran to console her, Annabeth couldn’t help but think how terribly wrong the situation had gone. What was once her perfect, muddy little peasant boy was now a tall, dashing young man.

“It will be okay” Piper crooned, holding Annabeth’s shoulders.

“I just don’t know why I didn’t think past him being covered in dirt” Annabeth admitted, “I should always check. Never judge a peasant by his muck. I should have hosed him down first.”

“I may be poor but I have ears!” Percy yelled, and Annabeth just put her face into her hands.

“He even has both his ears!” She cried, shaking her head.

“I’m so sorry your majesty-“ Frank said, bustling his supplies back into his arms. “I will see myself out.”

The castle’s tailor left promptly, stumbling on the steps as he made his way out of the door, dropping trimmers and needles in his wake. Piper continued to pat Annabeth on the back as they both mourned their perfect plan. 

“Don’t worry” Piper said. “He’s still dirt-poor. And he doesn’t have any manners, or social cues, or eloquence to speak of. Your mother is still going to hate him, haircut or no.”

“I know” Annabeth said. “I know I am being rash. I just want this situation over with, to be done as soon as possible. You should have seen how she was looking at me earlier. I just want it over. I want to leave as soon as I can.”

Suddenly the two girls jumped as a crash sounded next to them, large enough to make Piper scream. Percy stood above the remains of a porcelain flower vase, shattered in pieces across the floor, his shoulders heaving with laboured breaths. 

“Someone tell me what the _hell_ is going on!” He demanded, his teeth bared. He leaned over and grabbed the bust of Annabeth’s great grand mother, holding it above his head. “Or the statue gets it!” 

“Put that down” Annabeth commanded. “And sit. You ought to know why you’re here, by now, I suppose. Before we lose another priceless artefact.” 

So she told him, pacing in front of his chair as he watched her walk in circles around him. She told him of the abuse her mother had put her through, the pressure of her forced crowning, of the dreams she had that required the freedom she could only obtain as a commoner. She told him of her plan to be disgraced from the family and disowned, how she had called all the common men of the area into the castle to find the one that would displease her mother most, and of how she had not even seen the turn out when she found Percy sitting in a mud puddle, waiting for her. She told it all to a stranger, and when she was done, she sat down opposite him in a large, plush armchair and cried. 

Annabeth hated crying. She didn’t like feeling vulnerable or weak, or easily susceptible to her emotions in front of anyone. A Queen was meant to be hard and resolute, and was not supposed to quiver in the face of adversity. All her life Annabeth’s mother had told her to be perfect one must not show feeling, but now with everything falling apart, it was all Annabeth could do besides collapsing herself.

A broad, warm hand touched her shoulder gently. She looked up at the stable boy, who was now her fiancée. She could see now that his hair was out of his face that his eyes were green.

“I’ll do it” he said softly. “I’ll pretend to marry you. I’ll help you get your freedom.”

Annabeth nodded. “Thank you. I’ll give you whatever you desire when it is all over. I swear to you.”

He thought for a moment. “I want my freedom. And my mother’s freedom. And lands. Farming lands. Where I can live”

“It’s a deal” she said. “Oh. And, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Percy asked.

Annabeth reached across to a large pitcher of wine that sat on the serving stand between them, and tossed the contents into his face and down his shirtfront. Percy spluttered and coughed, standing to wipe the liquid from his mouth, his eyes blazing with fury.

“For that” Annabeth said.

 

* * *

 

They entered the dining hall reeking of red wine. 

Annabeth swaggered in, leading a stained Percy by their linked arms into the grand procession that was breakfast. The visitors from Rome watched with horrified faces as she paraded her new fiancée past them, the other nobles assembled to dine with the royal family either sallow and terrified or gone red with shock.

The Queen herself was shaking, her eyes darting between the obscene way Annabeth’s arm was linked in his and the alcohol that was spilt down Percy’s clothes and stuck to his face in sticky red droplets, all before 8am. Annabeth grinned at her mother’s displeasure, her unease from before melting as she tasted how close freedom was.

Annabeth stopped in front of her mother, yanking Percy to stand beside her. 

“Good morning, my Queen!” Annabeth said. “I’ve brought my fiancé along for his first royal breakfast. Isn’t that right, Percykins?” 

Annabeth turned and leaned up on her tippy toes, rubbing her nose against Percy’s. She half expected Percy to sway on the spot and look dumbfounded, but instead he grinned and booped her top lip.

“That’s absolutely-dootly correct Annababy” Percy said, turning to the Queen. 

He bowed before her, a large, overtly comical gesture, playing his part perfectly if Annabeth couldn’t tell he was nervous beyond belief from his trembling fingers.

The Queen said absolutely nothing, just squaring her jaw and turning back to her breakfast, the spoon in her hand bending.

Chatter resumed around them as Annabeth led Percy to their spot at the table, where only one place had been set. Prince Jason was the first to ask questions when they were seated, his face curious but obviously hiding blatant amusement.

“Lord Percival, what do you do for work?”

“It’s just Percy” Percy said with a mouthful of food, his knife and fork gripped in the wrong hands tightly as he carved apart the pile on his plate.

“Oh. Forgive me, Percy” Jason smiled, his blue eyes dancing. “What did you do before coming here?”

“Well,” Percy said, biting off half a sausage. “I worked for a land owner with my mother for awhile on a farm a few miles east- _wow_ , this stuff is good -to pay off a debt my father left us behind with.”

“Darling, you’ll choke like that” Annabeth said beside him, dabbing her lips with a napkin.

“Sorry sweetums” Percy said around his mouthful. “I’m just not used to the fancy breakfast is all.”

“So you’re a servant?!” Jason’s Prime Minister said beside him, a dark haired woman who looked like she could punch through iron. “To a landlord??” 

“Correct” Percy said, pointing his fork at the girl. 

“How scandalous” she muttered, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

Far to Annabeth’s left, her mother threw her napkin down on her plate and stormed out of the room, flanked by her ladies. Annabeth beamed behind her hands, her mother’s anger the only thing making this embarrassment that was Percy worth the trouble.

“You clean up well, though, my friend” Prince Jason admitted, reaching forward to clap Percy on the shoulder. “We must go hunting while I’m here, I would love to get to know you better.” 

“Sounds like a ball” Percy accepted. “Only if my darling lovely sweet precious wife-to-be says she agrees, though.”

Percy reached over and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and instinctively Annabeth shoved him off.

“Honey drop?” Annabeth asked, her voice an octave too high. “Can we speak for a moment, in private?”

“Anything for my sugar apple” he said, standing and following her to the back of the room, taking his plate with him. 

She stopped by the window, waiting for Percy to join her behind the shelter of a curtain.

“What are you doing?” She hissed, pulling him into the shadows. 

“What do you mean? I’m doing what you asked, I’m pretending we’re in love and being embarrassing”

“My mother has left the room. There’s no need to put your arm around me, or call me your wife to be!”

Percy levelled his gaze with hers, his eyebrows in a straight, serious line. “Look, Princess. You don’t get to call me a dirty peasant and make fun of my status and throw casks of wine on me _and_  give me orders. It doesn’t work like that. I said I would help but not if you’re going to exploit me then chastise me for doing what you asked.” 

“You cannot speak to me like that!” Annabeth said through her teeth. Who did this peasant boy think he was?

“Actually, I can. Your little plan depends on me complying to work. So now, if you don’t mind, they’re serving peaches and cream over by the tables.”

He sauntered off with his plate and left Annabeth alone in the shadows at the back of the room, instantly greeted with more questions and queries as the servants doled out the next course. As Annabeth watched him guzzle down fruit and chat with the nobility of the room, a feeling of impending doom settled upon her.

“Oh God” Annabeth said aloud. “What have I done.”


End file.
